Poetic Principle
by Ghost Rider of the Aragon
Summary: A case centered around literature hits close to home for one BAU agent. (Hotch/Prentiss if you squint, and some slight Reid whump)


I do not own Criminal Minds Any quotes from poems or other stories are from Edgar Allan Poe.(The Tell-Tale Heart, Annabel Lee, and The Raven)

Here's a quick summary: A case based on poetry and story plots hits close to home for the team, especially Hotch. Just friendship/hurt/comfort with the whole team. No pairings, really ( Hotch/Prentiss if you squint.) Some mild Reid whumpage (why is it so much fun to beat him up?) Rated PG for some thematic elements and descriptions of violence.

I hope you enjoy !

"Poetic Principle"

SUFFOLK, VIRGINIA

A group of eight teenagers sat near the main lake of the Dismal Swamp. They were telling stories back and forth across the small campfire. One of the older ones, a tall brunette girl named Lexi, was telling the legend of the lake. "… Unable to accept the loss of his beloved, the young man came to this lake, this very spot, and waded out searching for her. No one knows what befell him, but he was never seen again among the living. Now it is said that he haunts these shores, still searching for the girl whom he loved. And if you listen carefully enough, you can still hear his mournful cry echoing off the water." As she finished her narrative, a screech owl uttered a short cry, startling the rest of the group. Lexi smiled, pleased with her success. One of the girls shuddered. "Lexi, that was absolutely terrifying! I loved it!" the others nodded in agreement. The three guys that were accompanying them rolled their eyes. One of them, a 17 year old named Trevor, got up to stretch his legs.

He walked over by the shoreline, watching the reflection of the moon on the water. Somewhere behind him, he heard a twig snap. He paid no attention to it. He turned to go back, but right behind him was a black-clad figure wearing a white mask. He attempted to run away, but the figure was close on his heels. With one blow to the head, Trevor fell, disoriented. The shrouded figure looked up at the moon, and then back at Trevor. He drew a small silver knife out of his pocket, and stabbed his victim multiple times. Trevor saw the blade coming, and tried to fight back, but to no avail. Once he was sure that the victim was dead, he walked towards the campfire. A young blonde girl, the one who had commented on Lexi's story, was pouring water over the dying embers. Everybody else was in the car waiting for her and Trevor. She started to walk towards where Trevor had gone. She saw him lying there in the moonlight. She turned and saw the shadowy figure. Before she could scream, the figure had her by the throat. With one swift movement he plunged the knife into her heart, silencing her forever.

FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION, BAU HEADQUARTERS, QUANTICO, VIRGINIA

Prentiss sat at her desk, with an open book in front of her. Reid and Morgan came in, carrying their cups of coffee.

"Hey Prentiss, what are you reading?" Reid asked, curious. Prentiss hardly ever read at work.

"Oh, just some poetry. I'm going through some of my stuff from when I was a kid, some of my favorites from when I was in high school, like _The Raven_ and _The Bells_." Morgan did a double take. Reid smiled as he thumbed through the pages.

"Ah, Edgar Allan Poe. He was pretty good, but really dark when it comes to poetry." he said.

"I can see why you like it, though." Morgan added, "Judging by the way you dressed in high school…" He ducked as Prentiss threw a paper wad at him.

"I thought we agreed to never speak of that again." she hissed. Reid set the book down on her desk.

"I can see why people are drawn to it though. It's addictive when you get into it. Very good for when you want to give yourself nightmares." Prentiss nodded in appreciation.

"Hey, guys, Hotch and Rossi are up here waiting for you." JJ said from upstairs. The three jumped up from their desks, and fairly flew up the stairs. JJ waited for them. Together they walked into the meeting room. Hotch, Rossi, and Garcia were already seated around the table, waiting for the rest of the team. JJ stood up in front.

"We have received a case file from Suffolk, Virginia. They have had four people go missing within the past two weeks, and they were found dead within hours after they were taken. The first two victims were Trevor Paxton, 17, and Elena Walker, 13. They were found in the lake of the Dismal Swamp. The second, an older man named Charles Caine, was found by a younger couple when they noticed a smell coming from the ceiling above their bedroom. He was found, dismembered, in the floorboards above their apartment. There is a 30-year-old man named Ethan Ryder who is missing. He was last seen at the Suffolk High School, where he teaches American Literature."

"What is common to all the crime scenes that the local police think they're after a serial killer?" Hotch asked. JJ looked over at the screen.

"All three victims were killed in the same manner; stab wounds to the torso and abdomen. The only inconsistent thing was the way the third body was disposed of. At each of the crime scenes, the police found a small bell." JJ switched the image on the screen. The picture was of a bronze-colored bell, in hands of the two teenagers and the severed arm of the old man. Reid looked closely at the bell.

"That bell is the kind that churches use on All Saints Day, the first Sunday in November, to remember the members that have died." He sat back, thinking. JJ switched the screen again.

"The local police also found a crude drawing of a black bird on notepaper in the victim's pockets." Everybody sat looking at the pictures. Prentiss looked especially intrigued.

"There was no evidence left at the scenes. No hair, no trace evidence whatsoever." Morgan looked over at JJ.

"When do we leave?" he asked. JJ handed Hotch the file.

"As soon as we possibly can."

Prentiss brought her poetry book along on the jet. She sat, reading silently to herself on one of the seats that was farther back on the fuselage. Morgan, Reid, Hotch, and Rossi sat at the table looking over the files.

"The police report says multiple stab wounds. What does that usually suggest?" Rossi asked to help them get started on the profile. Reid read and reread the report within seconds.

"He's angry, or extremely nervous. He wants to make sure that the victims are dead. Probably is living out some sort of fantasy. I mean, if he wasn't, there would have been more of a mess when it came to the wound pattern on the first body." he said after a few moments. Morgan was jotting down some of the basics.

"So he's delusional. But is his fantasy based off of reality or something he's read?" Reid looked more closely at the pictures. Hotch noticed Prentiss sitting in the back.

"What are you reading, Emily?" Prentiss sat up, Hotch's voice interrupting the rhythm of the poem she was reading.

"Oh this? It's my Edgar Allen Poe collection." Hotch seemed surprised.

"I took you to be the type that would read only if you had to." Prentiss laughed.

"Reading is one of my favorite things. You can learn something even from mystery/horror poems and stories."

Hotch shook his head, disagreeing.

"We'll see about that." He turned back to the files.

"_Please fasten your seatbelts; we are coming in for landing, thank you."_ The pilot's voice came over the speaker. Reid looked up, surprised.

"We're there already?" he said incredulously.

"Yeah, it's only a half hour flight." Morgan said, smiling at his disbelief.

"I'm really glad you could come. We've been looking for Ethan Ryder for the past couple days, but we haven't had any luck." Hotch fell into step alongside the police chief.

"That's why we've come. We need to get a profile set up the rest of the way so that we can find this killer. Agent Morgan and I will go to the first crime scene. Dr. Reid and Agent Prentiss will go to the scene in the apartment. We'll meet back here in about two hours."

The sun shone brightly over the swamp. The places where the bodies had been found looked as if nothing had taken place. Hotch looked out over the lake, squinting in the glare of the sun on the water. Morgan stopped.

"Hey Hotch, come look at this." There at his feet were the remains of the fire.

"It looks like our victims had a bit of a party. So, everybody else is back in the car, leaving two of them to douse the fire. The one goes to stretch his legs and the girl comes to get water. The unsub attacks the boy first, and when the girl stumbles upon the body while he's still placing it, he goes crazy. Both of them end up floating in the lake, and the unsub disappears without being seen by the others. How?" Morgan asked. Hotch looked over at the tire tracks.

"The other six are in the car waiting for them. When they take too long getting back, one of them comes looking, and they find the bodies. By then, the unsub had time to place the bells and drawings, and get away." Morgan looked up at Hotch.

"How long do you wait for someone before you go looking for them?" he asked. Hotch stepped back and thought a moment.

"Fifteen minutes, maybe? I can't see teenagers being that patient, though. So, I guess I would say five minutes." Morgan nodded.

"So this guy is fast, controlling, and angry. From what I've heard, this lake has some history. Maybe someone decided to make the legend a reality."

"But why a thirteen year old girl?" Hotch asked. Morgan shrugged.

"I don't know, but I'm sure Reid could figure something out." Hotch looked back out on the lake. The sun had gone behind the clouds, giving the grey water an eerie look.

"Let's go back." he said, clearly disturbed.

Prentiss and Reid walked into the abandoned apartment. The floorboards were torn up all throughout the rooms. They had to walk on the trusses, being careful not to fall through the drywall and plaster ceiling below. Reid looked over at the police officer who was accompanying them.

"What did this look like before they tore up the floor?" The young officer pulled some pictures out of his pocket.

"The floor was completely intact when we got here. It looked like there was nothing wrong. I mean, if the couple downstairs didn't insist that we check this place out, we wouldn't have found him." Prentiss looked puzzled.

"I feel like I should recognize this scenario. Why can't I think?" she said. Reid looked over at her.

"What do you mean?" he asked, concerned. Prentiss looked over the room. Scenes from stories flashed through her head. As if he read her mind, Reid started seeing scenes from stories as well. At the same time, they looked up at each other.

"_The Tell-Tale Heart!_" they both said at the same time.

"What are you guys talking about?" the police officer asked, obviously confused, and kind of freaked out about the speaking in unison.

"It's a story we've read. Edgar Allan Poe wrote it. It's about a madman who kills his master because of a blind eye." Reid said, explaining. The police officer still looked freaked out.

"Okay, whatever."

"_You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen _me._ You should have seen how wisely I proceeded, with what caution, with what foresight…_" Reid said, quoting the story as he turned back to the spot where the body had been. Prentiss looked amazed.

"How did you remember all that?" she said. Reid gave her a crooked smile.

"You said it yourself; I enjoy exploring humanity's dark side. And with an eidetic memory, I'm scarred for life." He turned back to the scene. "It's just like the story, too. I mean, there's no blood spot, nothing would be amiss if it weren't for the body in the floor." Prentiss looked curious.

"If there's no blood anywhere, where did the unsub get rid of it?" The police officer came back from the bathroom.

"I think you'll find the answer in here. Come with me." he said, looking a bit squeamish.

"What is it?" Prentiss asked. There was an antique tin bathtub sitting in the bathroom. It was filled with blood. Prentiss turned away, disgusted and disturbed at the find.

"_There was nothing to wash out- no stain of any kind- no blood-spot whatsoever. I had been too wary for that. A tub had caught all- ha! ha!"_ Reid quoted dryly. "I'd say this unsub has delusional fantasies based on Edgar Allan Poe stories. Hey, did you know that Edgar Allen Poe was the inventor of the mystery suspense genre? And he also helped develop short stor-" He was cut off mid-sentence by Emily.

"Back to the case, Reid." Reid stopped for a second, gathering his thoughts.

"Oh yeah, back to the case. Sorry guys, ADD moment. I mean, it fits. The drawing of the black birds, and the bells. _The Raven, _and _The Bells_, that's where he's getting his signature. The murder by the lake was based off of the legend that Poe wrote about in the poem _The Lake_. In the original legend, no one was murdered though." He turned and looked at the tub of blood again.

"I think that I can finish the profile now." he said, looking back up at Prentiss. She nodded in agreement. They walked back down to the car.

_The school was out for the day. A young man walked to the street, shouldering his backpack. He was only 18. He turned and walked into an alley. A navy blue car pulled up alongside him. A figure in a black jacket and white mask got out and hit him over the head with the butt of a gun, and pulled him into the backseat. The engine revved, and the car sped off._

JJ stood before the cameras and microphones.

"Here is the profile for the suspect. He is a white male in his 30's. He is most likely a loner, but he doesn't see himself as the cause of this. He blames others. He makes other people uncomfortable. He's prone to angry outbursts, he's delusional, theatrical and he's extremely controlling. If he can't get his way, he bribes others to do what he wants. He is taking his fantasies from stories he's read. He probably has taught at one point or another. He is most likely artistic, dramatic. If he is artistic, then he will show almost extraordinary talent. If you know anybody who behaves in this manner, please call the police station. We will have a few agents standing by to take your calls. Thank you." She walked away from the podium.

_The boy awoke in a dark chamber. He tried to move his arms, but found them bound to his sides. His ankles were also bound. He lay back down and closed his eyes hoping that this was all just a dream, just an awful, awful dream. When he opened them again, there was a thin ray of light shining above him. Then he saw the blade suspended above him. What was once hope gave way to horror as it started swinging slowly back and forth above his torso. He gave a scream of absolute terror and struggled desperately to loosen the ropes as it dropped lower; just a foot… a half a foot… inches from his chest. It swung once more. He closed his eyes just as the deadly blade hit home._

Back at the police station, the phone calls poured in. Morgan and Hotch were taking them. Meanwhile, Reid and Prentiss were sitting at a table talking to Garcia via webcam.

"Hello my loves. Nothing makes Halloween more enjoyable than an Edgar Allen Poe case, don't you agree? Oh well, back to my findings. I was looking through old records. There have been other murders in the past several years that are based off of what appear to be Edgar Allan Poe stories. One 17 year old, Carl Weston, was found in an extension of a brick wall, bound in chains. Does that ring any bells as to story plots and titles?" she asked. Reid nodded.

"_The Cask of Amontillado."_ he said. Prentiss winced, imagining how frightening that must have been.

"Any others?" Prentiss asked. Garcia typed for a few seconds.

"As a matter of fact there is, my Dark Angel. Last year they found Jeanette Ryder, the wife of the high school lit teacher tied to a chair in a basement of a warehouse. The cause of death was extreme starvation. In the same room, they found a portrait of her. Awesome detail. So very lifelike." Prentiss shut her eyes.

"_The Oval Portrait."_ Reid looked over at the laptop. Garcia smiled back, but her smile turned into a horrified stare.

"There's one more. Oh my god, that's disgusting. The victim, Ted Burrows, was buried alive in a wooden coffin. He had wood splinters under his fingernails. He had been seeing a hypnotist to get rid of a deep seated fear of being buried alive. What does this mean, o Brilliant One?" Reid sighed, but didn't answer. Garcia looked concerned

"Reid, what is it?" Reid looked back at the screen.

"_The Premature Burial."_ he said.

"Prentiss, Reid, we just got a call. They've found another body." Rossi said, startling them.

"Do you have any idea what story he based this one off of?" Reid asked, not sure that he wanted to know. "Reid, the kid was nearly cut in half by a blade suspended above him. This time they found a note." Morgan said, clearly disturbed.

"It's a totally different method, but it's got to be the same guy. What story is it this time, Prentiss?"

"_The Pit and the Pendulum. _He's already taken some of Poe's most popular stories. What is another popular story that would make a satisfying murder? If I'm the killer, I'm looking for something huge, because the past few murders have not come close to what I hoped they would." Prentiss said, thinking. Reid seemed to understand where she was going with this.

"I would go for _'The Masque of the Red Death'_, but of course, that's pure speculation. Where could he find enough people at a dance to kill them all?" Reid asked. JJ looked over at the police chief.

"The high school's Halloween Dance is Saturday night. Today is Thursday." The police chief's eyes widened as he said this. "You have to stop this man. My daughter is going to the dance on Saturday."

_The only light was the lamp on the table. The killer walked over to it. He picked up the book lying on the table. The raven on the front looked both menacing and familiarly comforting to him. He walked over to the chair in the corner and sat down. The poetic words floated through his mind, soothing the anger he felt at his unappreciative students. They were only children; incapable of understanding great literature. He felt that one must live the story in order to understand its deeper meanings. He must bring them to this understanding, make them see, no, feel the emotions of the characters and learn from them. He closed his eyes, happy with the success of his mission. His wife had finally understood, as had the two children by the lake. And the old man, the boy, and soon all the others at school. He smiled, pleased by the thought._

The team was sitting together near a desk, talking. The phone rang, startling them. Rossi picked up.

"Hello, this is Agent Rossi speaking. How can I help you?"

A young-sounding female voice answered him.

"Agent Rossi, I think I know who the killer is. The man who's missing, Ethan Ryder? He's the American Lit teacher at the high school." Rossi nodded.

"Go on." He said.

"Well, when he's teaching us, he makes us choose characters from the stories and act them out. He gives us a better grade if we do it well, but sometimes it's just creepy. Nobody likes his class. Most people try to find an excuse to get out of it." Rossi sat back.

"What is your name?" he asked. The voice on the other end paused a moment.

"My friend and I are coming in a little bit." She hung up. Rossi set the phone back on the receiver.

"The person I just talked to thinks that the killer is Ethan Ryder, our missing Lit teacher. She says that he made the students act out the stories." He said. Prentiss looked disturbed.

"That's just creepy. There are some stories of Poe's that would be scary to act out. I wouldn't make students do that." Reid looked over at the glass doors in the front of the police station. A young girl and one of her friends were coming in through the door. They came over to the desk the team was sitting at.

The older one introduced herself and her friend.

"I'm Lexi, and this is my friend Kristin. We were there the night of the murders by the lake." Morgan got up from his seat to grab a couple more chairs from another desk.

"We've been watching the news and reading the paper. We think we know how he's doing this, Agent Hotchner." Lexi said. Hotch looked interested.

"What is your theory, Lexi?" Lexi looked over at the younger girl. "The murders are taking place in the order of the classes he's teaching. A couple months ago he was teaching us about the story 'The Cask of Amontillado'. He was making us act it out in class, and he himself was playing Montresor. The kid who was playing Fortunato made a mistake. He said a line too soon. And Jeanette, she was just a nag on Mr. Ryder. I can sort of understand why he would take her out. Ted Burrows was the janitor. Everybody knew about his fear. One day he accidentally interrupted the class in the middle of our reading time. Mr. Ryder nearly lost it. He chased him out of the classroom shouting at him and threatening him. When he came back the entire room was in disorder, and he shouted something about young people not recognizing great literature when they see it. I think that he's killing them because they don't measure up to the stories." Lexi shuddered. Kristin took up where Lexi left off.

"The next story we were going to study was 'The Masque of the Red Death'. Now I'm afraid to go to the Halloween Dance or class, because we have no idea what he'll do."

Reid broke in.

"Is he still missing?" Lexi nodded. Reid smiled. "Then you have nothing to worry about, at least when it comes to Literature class." He looked over at Prentiss.

"If he's preparing for his next murder, he won't come back until it's the opportune time." Prentiss said, explaining. Lexi and Kristin looked over at the door. Hotch seemed to sense their nervousness.

"You know, you've really helped us. We can use the information to catch this guy." he said sincerely. "We're going to be at the dance, so that if he makes a move, we'll catch him before he can do any harm." Lexi got up.

"Thanks for listening. We have to get home or our parents will be worried. Come on Kristin." Kristin got up and followed Lexi out the door.

_A navy blue car was parked outside the police station. The man inside watched as the two girls left. Once they were far enough down the street, he drove after them. They had been talking to the police. They weren't playing along! They didn't understand. Especially the older one. He parked his car when the younger one entered her house. The brunette watched her friend enter the house, and then she turned at the next corner. He put the car back in gear, and followed her. He sped up to keep pace with her. He suddenly threw it into park, jumped out, and knocked the girl unconscious. He dragged her to the back of the car and put her in the backseat. He drove off._

The team had just gotten back to the station after a fitful night's sleep. A phone was ringing as soon as they got to the desk. Hotch picked up.

"Hello, this is Agent Hotchner." A frantic sounding woman was on the line.

"Agent Hotchner, My daughter Lexi didn't come home last night. She and her friend Kristen went to talk to you last night. There was a note on my front steps this morning." Hotch was immediately concerned.

"She didn't make it home?" The only sound on the phone was the mother's frantic crying.

"Ma'am, I need you calm down. Hang up and come down to the station. Quickly. Bring the note with you." He ordered.

"Yes sir." She managed to answer, and then the line disconnected. Reid looked over at Hotch.

"What happened?" he asked. Hotch looked grim.

"One of the girls, Lexi, who came last night, disappeared on her way home last night." Prentiss' eyes widened.

"Is her mother bringing the note?" she asked.

"Yeah, she's going to bring it. I was thinking that maybe Reid could find if there were any hidden messages in it." Reid nodded and went to find the whiteboard he had seen floating around the station.

Minutes later, a woman in her early forties came in. She quickly walked over to the desk where the team was sitting.

"Agent Hotchner, here's the note." She handed the slip of paper to him. Hotch promptly handed it off to Reid, who took it, read it and started copying it onto the white board. The note read:

_If you wish to find her, find me. Day comes and then day goes and comes again. Death is the final night. She will not stay for long. They will come and take her from me. Yet, they cannot dissever my soul from hers. I shall never forget her. After she's gone, she will be only a lasting memory. I will live for no one else but her. _

Reid stood back.

"He won't kill her until after the dance." Morgan looked confused.

"How do you know that?" Reid studied what he had written.

"Day comes and then day goes and comes again. He is talking about tonight, and then Saturday night. We know from the pattern he won't kill until the opportune time. With something as big as the dance, he won't have the time to kill her until it's completed." Hotch stepped over.

"Reid, can you figure out which story he's talking about?" Prentiss came over.

"It's not a story! It's a poem. _They will come and take her from me. _It sounds familiar.

_I was a child and she was a child_

_In this kingdom by the sea_

_But we loved with a love that was more than love-_

_I and my Annabel Lee;_

_With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven_

_Coveted her and me._

He's using _Annabel Lee_ this time. When he talks about separating their souls, it's in one of the stanzas near the end." she said.

Reid broke in.

"_And neither the angels in heaven above_

_Nor the demons down under the sea._

_Can ever dissever my soul from the soul_

_Of the beautiful Annabel Lee."_

It's all in the poem. Near the end of the poem, he says something about sleeping next to the corpse of his wife." Prentiss saw where he was going with this.

"So he's keeping her in a cemetery? Maybe one with mausoleums in it." she said.

"Okay, so we'll set up surveillance at the school and we'll search the cemeteries. We'll have to wait until after dark to find the girl, otherwise we might get her killed before the time is up." Hotch said, trying to figure out who would go help find Lexi and who would stay behind at the school.

"Reid, Morgan, and Prentiss, I want you to go to the school. Rossi, JJ, and I will go with the teams that are searching the cemeteries. Reid, what's the most effective way to kill a gymnasium full of teenagers?" Reid sat back for a moment.

"Serin gas through an AC vent. It wouldn't quite fit the story, but it would be close enough." Hotch nodded.

"Okay, so you and Morgan will be on the roof guarding the vents, and Prentiss will be inside, waiting for orders."

The moon shone brightly over the parking lot at the school. Inside, the dance floor was packed. The DJ switched songs, and the whole room seemed to throb with the beat. Outside, Morgan and Reid were climbing up a ladder that hung over the side of the building. Once they were on the roof, they hid themselves in the shadow of one of the ducts that came up through the roof.

"How much longer Reid?" Morgan asked impatiently. Reid looked down at his watch.

"It's 11:56 now, so four more minutes if my prediction is correct." Morgan turned back to the duct that led to the gymnasium underneath them.

"Morgan, why aren't you wearing your vest?" Reid asked. Morgan shook his head and pointed. Something was coming up the ladder. A figure dressed in black came up over the edge and made his way to the duct.

"Stay here Reid." Morgan whispered, as he got up to confront the unsub.

"Ethan Ryder, step away from the air duct. Put your hands where I can see them." he said, coming out into the pale light. The man went berserk. Reid saw a flash of metal as Ethan drew his gun. Out of the corner of his eye, Morgan saw Reid come running towards him. Right as the gun went off, Reid jumped in front of Morgan and fired his weapon at Ethan. Reid flew back a few feet from the impact and rolled, and Ethan fell to the ground, clutching his thigh. Morgan went over to Ethan and put handcuffs on him, and then ran over to where Reid was. _ C'mon, not Reid. Not Reid. _ In the moonlight, Morgan could see the hole that the bullet had ripped through the front of the jacket that the younger agent was wearing. There was no movement. Morgan knelt next to his friend, numb. _This can't be happening. Dear God, no. _ Suddenly Reid coughed and tried to sit up.

"What happened?" he asked, bewildered.

"You stopped a bullet, man. Nearly scared the hell out of me too. You sure you're okay?" Reid tilted his head to one side, cracking his neck.

"Yep, never better. Just got the wind knocked out of me." He unzipped his jacket. With a wry smile, he pulled a mangled piece of metal from the vest.

"Next time, wear your own Kevlar." he said as he walked past Morgan and climbed down the ladder. Right before he disappeared over the edge, he called back to Morgan,

"And if you're wondering, yes, this time I really was aiming for his leg." Morgan laughed. There was nothing like a running gag to relieve the tension of a near death experience.

Only a few miles away, Rossi, JJ and Hotch were walking through an old graveyard, searching for Lexi. They had their flashlights, and were shining them through the glass doors of the mausoleums. There were two other teams of officers with them. Hotch felt JJ shudder as they walked past a freshly dug grave.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned. "No not really. It- it reminds me of the Hankel case. But I'll be fine. I'm glad it's me here and not Reid. He would probably say the same thing."

"Hey, we got something over here!" one of the officers exclaimed. JJ and Hotch ran over to where the group was. As expected it was a mausoleum, but it was different than the others they had seen. On the side, there was a small raven scratched into the limestone. The door wasn't locked. With a creak, Hotch swung it open. There, on the table that would have held a coffin, was Lexi. She was bound and apparently unconscious. JJ quickly knelt next to the young girl and peeled back the duct tape from over her mouth. With a start, she opened her eyes. At first she thought that Ryder had come back for her, but when she recognized JJ, she began to calm down. Hotch helped her sit up so they could get the ropes off of her hands and ankles. Lexi was crying now.

"I wanna go home."

"You will. Our agents caught Ryder. You don't have to worry about him anymore." Two of the officers came with a stretcher and lifted her onto it. They carried her back to the ambulance.

The next day, the team drove up to Richmond to see some of the historical sites. Prentiss and Reid were particularly enthusiastic about visiting the Edgar Allen Poe Museum. After the two of them finished looking at the exhibits, they practically ran to the souvenir shop. They met up with the rest of the team a little while later at a small café. After eating lunch, the team was on their jet, headed back to Quantico. Morgan, as usual, was listening to his music. JJ and Prentiss were both looking through a fashion magazine. Reid was staring out the window, when suddenly he remembered something.

"Hotch, JJ, I got something for Jack and Henry." He dug through his bag and pulled out two identical books, probably from the museum gift shop. "It's a collection of Edgar Allan Poe's poems and excerpts of stories, edited down to make them appropriate for younger kids." Hotch took one and paged through it.

"Thanks Reid, Jack is gonna like it." Reid smiled. He looked over at JJ, who was already reading some of the poetry.

"I know I keep getting Henry books, but everybody needs something different once in a while."

"That's okay, Spence. He loves the books you give him, and I'm sure he'll love this one too." she said, giving him a side hug. She went back over to where she had been sitting and began reading again.

Reid went back to staring out the window, a troubled look settling in his eyes. Hotch noticed the change in mood. "Are you okay?" he asked as he turned to face his younger co-worker. Reid looked over at him. "What do you mean?"

"Something's bugging you."

"Well, I just thought of something that's kind of disturbing to me. I've been working this job how many years?"

"You know how long it's been."

"Yeah, but for the sake of this conversation, please answer."

" Okay. Six, if I'm not mistaken."

"Six, thank you. And what I've just realized that I'm getting used to getting shot at, contracting deadly diseases, or almost getting blown up or something along those lines. It just makes me wonder how many more times I can make it before the bullet, bomb, or virus wins."

Hotch nodded, understanding. There had been many times when he had felt the same way. And it was true; there had been many attempts on Reid's life, he'd just never thought of it from Reid's point of view. He was right; it was disturbing.

Later that night, Hotch was reading "The Raven" to Jack. After he was finished, he pulled the covers up to the boy's chin, and walked over and turned out the light. As he did so, the young boy mumbled something. Hotch stepped back into the room.

"What did you ask?" he said.

"I asked if the man in the poem ever got to see Lenore again. Did he, Daddy?"

Hotch paused a moment, taken by surprise at the question.

"I don't know, buddy. I really don't know."

"Okay. Good night. Love you Daddy."

Hotch took the book into the living room and sat down in his chair. He reread the poem.

' "_Prophet!" said I, "Thing of evil!- prophet still if bird or devil_

_By the heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore_

_Tell this soul with sorrow laden if within that distant Aidenn_

_It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore_

_Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore_

_Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore"'_

A sense of uneasiness settled in his gut. He read on.

' "_Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, up starting-_

"_Get thee back into the tempest and the night's Plutonian Shore!_

_Leave no black plume as a token of the lie thy soul hath spoken_

_Leave my loneliness unbroken- quit the bust above my door_

_Take thy beak from out my heart and take thy form from off my door!"_

_Quoth the Raven "Nevermore"'_

After contemplating these last two verses, he finished reading the final verse and was so upset by it that he flung the book across the room.

'_And the Raven never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting_

_On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;_

_And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,_

_And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor_

_And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor_

_Shall be lifted—nevermore!'_

He got up to go to bed, and picked up the book. He thought about it for a second. He was like the man in the poem, trying to hold on to the past, and being distracted from the present. This was not the way to live. Maybe Prentiss was right, and you really could learn something from horror stories and poems. He decided then to learn from this poem, to let go of the past, and embrace the future, whatever it brought.

The End

Review please. Be nice, though; this is my first fanfic based entirely on Criminal Minds. To anybody out there from Saunders, VA, sorry about any inaccuracies in my descriptions.

Ghost Rider of the Aragon


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